


Renegades

by TheNumberFour



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Brief Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, F/M, M/M, Main pairing is Starcee, May be other pairings later on, Mentions of Suicide, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-18
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-09 21:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4364849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNumberFour/pseuds/TheNumberFour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of destroying the Omega Lock in Darkest Hour, Optimus Prime was killed. As a result, Megatron restored Cybertron and enslaved the human race before cyberforming Earth. A year later, Arcee is sold into slavery and becomes a performer for Airachnid. After a show at a gala thrown by Megatron, the warlord sets his sights on the femme, but she finds that she and his Second-In-Command may be falling for each other instead. Title from the X Ambassadors song.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Auction

**Author's Note:**

> After three drafts and a lot of writer's block, I'm finally putting this fic up! Hope you all enjoy it!

“Wake up, filth.” Arcee heard the snarl in her audio, jolting her out of her recharge cycle, if she could even call it that. She was hardly even able recharge at all nowadays. She looked up to see a Vehicon unlocking her cell, grabbing her roughly by the stasis cuffs on her wrists and dragging her up and outside. Today was the day she’d be sold. After nearly a year in limbo on Earth, without a single word from any of her former team, it was finally her auction date.

She had been forced to do manual labor for Swindle, tossing scrap metal into a smelting pit, but now it was time to go. Other slaves were incoming today and Swindle had to auction off the surplus, those who had been here the longest.

“Swindle’s been waiting a long time for this. We were all placing bets on how many credits you’ll bring in.” The guard taunted her. As a member of Optimus Prime’s inner circle on Earth, she definitely wasn’t going to go for cheap, she knew that much. He shoved her behind another prisoner and left as more bots in cuffs and chains were positioned after her. The mech directly behind her cleared his throat, just loud enough to catch Arcee’s attention, and she glanced back at him. He was taller than she was, which wasn’t a huge surprise; most bots were. And he had a deep red paint job that vaguely reminded her of Cliffjumper’s crimson finish. 

“I just wanted to tell you how much you’ve inspired us all.” He whispered, not wanting to catch the attention of any of the prowling guards. Arcee was taken aback. 

“Me? How so?” She’d failed on Earth. They all had. The human race and the remainders of the Autobot faction were either dead, imprisoned, or enslaved, all because the Autobots couldn’t outwit Megatron. 

The bot in front of her, a taller, forest green femme, piped up. “We know what you’ve done. And we know you could’ve easily thrown yourself into the smelting pit and just ended it all. You’re the reason _I_ didn’t do that, actually.” She admitted wistfully, almost ashamed of the toll the imprisonment had taken on her emotions. A twinge of guilt hit Arcee; after realizing that rebelling was useless, she _had_ tried that, but supervising Vehicons had caught her in time, because Swindle couldn’t let one of his most valuable items be destroyed, of course. Maybe those two had been brought in after the attempt, but perhaps it was best to let them believe she hadn’t nearly let those dark feelings overcome her.

“Well… thank you. But who are you two?” Arcee asked.

“We were Autobots during the war and we were scattered when Cybertron was destroyed. Wildclaw and I,” She gestured to the mech behind Arcee, “met up near Neptune before we were captured by the Decepticons monitoring this solar system. I’m Scatterblast, by the way. Sorry we didn’t introduce ourselves sooner.” 

“It’s fine.” Arcee reassured the two younger bots. “Not like you really had a chance to.” A lot of their time was spent in isolation. And during labor hours, all prisoners were kept under close watch. Socialization was strictly prohibited, and punishments were harsh. Public beatings were common for the first few months, when the captured bots were most defiant. Arcee, the fierce Autobot she was, was a recurring offender, and was frequently on the receiving end of such punishments. Backtalk, attempted escape, disobedience, you name it; Arcee had attempted it during most of her imprisonment.

“Hey! You three!” Arcee and her two new acquaintances turned toward the voice. A Vehicon had noticed the ongoing chat. “Just because it’s Auction Day doesn’t mean the rules no longer apply to you.” 

The three bots nodded their heads obediently and faced forward once more, standing silently as the other bots ahead were auctioned off, one-by-one. And after a while, the time came for Scatterblast to leave. Which meant Arcee was next.

“Good luck.” The elder femme whispered to the younger one as she was roughly pushed onto the lift. Scatterblast gave her a nervous glance, which she probably intended to be reassuring. The lift rose, bringing Scatterblast to the auction platform. Arcee could hear shouts from above after a few kliks and soon after, the lift lowered and she was dragged to it by the Vehicon guards.

“Don’t give up, Arcee.” Wildclaw whispered from behind her before she was taken away. She stood stationary on the lift as it began to rise, helm down as she stared at her pedes. 

Swindle stood not far from her, behind a podium. The crowd was huge, and let out murmurs upon seeing her. Was it _really_ the Autobot Arcee? The former Second In Command of the Autobot squad on Earth? Swindle cleared his throat and began her auction.

"Here, we have Arcee! And to all those war veterans in the crowd, you aren't seeing things! She really was one of Optimus Prime's highest ranking officers once upon a time!" The crowd of Decepticons broke out into laughter, jeering at the Autobot failure. Arcee bit her glossa, struggling to keep her mouth shut. "But in all seriousness, folks, she's a hard worker. And, for a femme, extremely strong. Very well-tempered." He told the crowd. Out of the corner of her optic, Arcee saw Swindle gulp softly and shoot a quick, nervous glance at her, though the audience was completely oblivious to his actions.

_Well-tempered. What a lie_ , Arcee thought, rolling her optics while keeping her head down, staring at her own pedes. But Swindle wouldn't make his credits any other way.

"Quite a looker, if your intended purposes are something _other_ than manual labor." Swindle said suggestively, with a wink at the crowd, which began another round of applause and laughter, this time accompanied by wolf-whistles and catcalls. "Haha! Am I right, folks?" The crowd continued to hoot until Swindle put up a servo. "A femme like this doesn't come cheap, though, folks. She's a rare commodity, this one. How about we start the bidding at... 10,000 credits?" A murmur went through the crowd as bots discussed the price. Was she worth it? Arcee angled her helm upwards to get a look at her potential owners.

A servo from a short bot in the middle of the crowd went up. "10,000 credits!"

"I hear we have 10,000 credits, do I hear 11,000?" Swindle cried.

"11,000!" From a larger mech towards the front.

"12,000!" Shouted a short mech in the back, hard to see from the platform where Arcee was standing.

Another shout, "13,000!"

"15,000!" Came from somewhere to the left of Arcee.

"20,000!" After that, the noise began to increase as the audience members began murmuring back and forth to one another. There was no way anyone would or could bid more than 20,000 credits for her. 

"Do I hear 25,000 credits!?" Swindle shouted over the rising din. It didn't seem like there would be a higher bidder. 

“25,000!” She got a glimpse of the mech who had just bid. Tall, not too bulky, black paint job, seemingly a grounder... and there was almost a more kindly look in his yellow optics, though in these times, looks were definitely deceiving. Perhaps he was one of those Autobots or sympathizers she'd heard whispers of. Rumor had it that they disguised themselves as Decepticons in order to rescue Autobots from slavery. The bot noticed her gaze on him and read her subtle questioning expression, giving a curt nod of affirmation. And in that instant she knew he was going to free her. She was saved! She shifted slightly on her pedes, having difficulty containing her joy.

But Arcee’s hopes in this stranger were dashed immediately when a cry of, "50,000 credits!" came from the back of the crowd. Almost instantly, there was silence. Arcee's head snapped up at the sound, a scowl forming on her faceplates when she recognized the bidder; she’d know that voice anywhere. It was a voice that had been ingrained in some of her worst nightmares. The crowd parted to let the clear winner through.

"Do I hear any higher bids? Going once! Going twice!" The top bidder stepped up on the stage. "SOLD! To Miss... Airachnid! How about that, everyone?" Arcee looked up with silent defiance at Airachnid and the two Insecticon bodyguards accompanying her. The spider femme grinned smugly back at the two-wheeler, fuchsia optics filled with victorious glee. If Arcee had any hope left in her spark, it was completely crushed now. 


	2. Airachnid's Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Airachnid and Arcee have a little chat about Airachnid's motives in claiming Arcee as her slave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaaand it's been almost a year since I've posted but I think I may have gotten my fanfiction groove back! I blame school for taking it away in the first place. This chapter's mostly a filler chapter (and just a warning, the next one is pretty much the same until the plot gets going at the very end) and I'm personally not a huge fan of the way it turned out and it's a bit short but I hope you all like it! I'll be posting the next chapter soon!

Arcee was unceremoniously dragged off the pedestal and through the jeering Decepticon crowd by Airachnid’s Insecticon lackeys. They loaded her into Airachnid’s brand new ship and bound her wrists and ankles, the same way she’d been tied when the spider interrogated her so long ago. 

Airachnid dismissed her underlings so she and Arcee could have some, as the spider had so eloquently put it, “femme talk”. Once they were left alone, Airachnid began to circle Arcee slowly, like a feral predator going in for the final slash to the prey’s jugular. Although, was that not what Airachnid was?

“How’d you free yourself?” Arcee hissed at her archenemy, who promptly backhanded her, presumably for her disrespectfulness to her new owner. Although Arcee wasn’t keen on bowing to Airachnid’s will. Never had been before. 

“I’ll be asking the questions.” Airachnid stated calmly, as if nothing had happened. “But I was going to get to that. Before Earth was Cyberformed, the Decepticons raided your little Autobot base and found my pod along with remaining Iacon relics. Megatron released me when I was brought to him, and in return for my freedom I re-pledged my loyalty to the Decepticon cause,” said the spider femme. 

“Because that ended so well the first time.” The sarcastic grumble earned Arcee another slap. “And the second time.” That brought a knee to Arcee’s abdominal plating. “Third time’s the charm, I guess.” A direct punch to the side of her face was the punishment for that comment. 

"I was just passing through the area when I noticed the auction. I heard your name and knew that I had to stop by. And ever since Jack Darby," sneered Airachnid, "I knew that hunting truly wasn't my thing. Now I’d rather buy what I want rather than work for it. Turns out that as sensational a high the thrill of the hunt was, nothing compares to the satisfaction of getting exactly what I want. And I can get exactly what I want now that you Autobots are no longer a threat to anyone." 

The spider must have expected some kind of violent reaction from the two-wheeler at the mention of the Autobots, because she wound her arm back slightly to prepare for another blow. However, as soon as Airachnid mentioned Jack, Arcee began to think about things that she had pondered endlessly in captivity. It had become a force of habit during the past year. Whenever Arcee’s thoughts drifted to Jack and the humans, she’d wonder and worry and try to reassure herself they were alright.

Where was Jack now? That was a question she’d asked herself dozens of times. Surely he was a slave. Megatron wouldn't have killed him; he had too much potential to go to waste. He knew the location of Vector Sigma and once was tasked to hold the information which belonged to Optimus Prime's Matrix of Leadership. He had been far too important to Optimus, and Megatron would never pass up an opportunity to control a human with that much significance to his slain enemy.

"Listen to me when I'm talking to you!" Airachnid snarled, lashing out at Arcee once more, striking her hard across the face, this time managing to scratch the two-wheeler with her digits. The blue femme, who had been staring at the gunmetal grey floor of the ship while lost in thought, jerked her head upward and squeezed her optics shut, her faceplate sizzling from the poisonous talons that had nicked her mesh. "You belong to me now. And you'll give me the respect I demand."

Arcee hissed in pain as she turned back to glare at Airachnid, gaze filled with hatred. 

"I thought a reunion was in order.” Airachnid So I bought you. It's not like any of those sorry mechs could have properly handled a femme of your caliber... I like to think that's a responsibility reserved especially for me." Airachnid grinned venomously. 

"So, Airachnid. What torture do you have planned for me?" Arcee spat, and was met with another slap, which made the cut on her faceplate sting even more. When Arcee’s gaze returned to rest on the spider, she saw that Airachnid's smirk had spread even wider across her faceplates. Arcee’s optics narrowed as she awaited an answer.

"I'm so glad you asked.” The spider’s fangs gleamed, even in the dim lighting, as she grinned at her prisoner. “Ever since you imprisoned me in that wretched stasis pod, I had been thinking about how things could have gone between us. You could have killed me. You were in position to take me out right then and there."

"Too bad I didn't." Arcee muttered under her breath. However, Airachnid noticed, and the behavior couldn't go unpunished. Arcee was struck again and Airachnid continued as if there had been no interruption.

"During my time in the pod, my mind was still functioning properly. Stasis in an Insecticon pod did not deny me total consciousness." Airachnid growled. "And I knew that it was you who had done this to me. I hate being powerless more than anything in the universe, and you managed to make me exactly that."

"I’m regretting leaving you alive. I could have done worse. I could’ve killed you. But of course you’re not even the slightest bit grateful. Primus forbid you change your wretched ways after such an experience.” Arcee spat. Airachnid struck Arcee even harder that time, leaving a deeper scratch along the side of the two-wheeler’s faceplate with her venomous digits. The venom in the wound seared Arcee’s mesh, and this time she couldn’t help but let out a whimper of pain.

"As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Airachnid snarled, “I formulated the perfect plan for you, and it is sure to make you just as powerless as I was in that pod."

Arcee was genuinely afraid this time. From the looks of it, Airachnid didn't intend to inflict any physical torment, that is, unless Arcee disobeyed her again. She was going directly for Arcee's mind. And this time, there were no Autobots to help the two-wheeler cope with the mental scars. 

Tailgate and Cliffjumper? Bulk, Bee, Jack, and Optimus got her through that, and the wounds were almost healed, save for the lingering resentment toward the murderers and the understandable nostalgia and longing for the past. Now, she had no one. She was alone.

"You... will be my performer." 

Arcee thought she'd misheard. "W-what?"

"A dancer.” Airachnid clarified, “Like the ones they used to have back in those seedy pubs on Cybertron. Ever since the slave trade began to boom, these performances have become more and more popular, and I've seen the credits a single show can bring in." The spider paused for a moment, letting the information sink in, and then continued. "But that's only a bonus. The real fun, for me, will be seeing you up on stage, performing choreography of my own design, losing every single ounce of dignity and pride that you still manage to cling to and being able to do _nothing_ about it."

Arcee's anger finally reached its peak, a wave of infuriation surging in her sparkchamber. She thrashed in her bonds and was able to land a kick, made much more powerful by the added momentum from the heavy chains that bound Arcee’s ankles, directly to Airachnid's faceplate, knocking her back on her aft. The spider hissed at Arcee, ashamed by the fact that the former Autobot was able to deal such damage even while restrained. She got back to her pedes and strode over to Arcee, who had been detained by the Insecticon guards, who’d reentered the chamber when they heard the commotion.

"It seems we need a little more intensive training before your first performance, Arcee. I know how I can fix that little disobedience problem of yours..." She tilted Arcee's head up to glare into the two-wheeler's double-toned optics. 

“What makes you think I care if you punish me? My cause is dead. Why don’t you kill me now and exact your revenge? I have nothing left to live for. I’d welcome it.” Arcee panted, gritting her denta and thrashing against the Insecticons that now had hold of her. 

“Ah, ah, but where’s the fun in killing you if you’re _willing_ to die at my hand, hm? I always hoped to end you after a good struggle. There’s no point to it anymore." Airachnid shrugged, sarcastically sticking out her lower lip, giving a sickening pout, like a sparkling would give when refused an energon sweet. “However… I know where Jack is right now.”

Arcee froze. “He’s alive…” She murmured, sighing with relief.

“Yes, as are the rest of your little human pets.” Airachnid sneered the word with disgust, as if a human wasn’t even worthy of being a pet, let alone a friend of a Cybertronian. “I can end them with one call. Though Megatron enjoys them because of their significance to Optimus Prime, he understands how disposable they are. So it’s really up to you.” Airachnid explained. “You obey me, or the humans die.”


	3. The Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed since Arcee entered into servitude under Airachnid. Airachnid receives a call from Cybertron detailing an unusual request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short filler chapter again but the plot gets going toward the end! Enjoy!

One year with Swindle led right into one year with Airachnid. Arcee had graduated from the chains in the torture chamber and now had a slightly larger holding cell, in which she was free to roam. It at least had a berth, which was uncomfortable, but served its purpose. She no longer was required to wear chains or even stasis cuffs. Airachnid was aware that Arcee’s weapons and transformation had been disabled long ago, while the two-wheeler was under Swindle’s command. And it was no longer any use to fight back; the more of a struggle Arcee put up, the more humiliating the choreography.

A faint beeping from the other side of the door caught Arcee’s attention. It was Airachnid, entering her code into the keypad and unlocking the door so she could enter with Arcee’s newest assignment. The spider femme had gotten easier to get along with over the course of the year. As long as she got her credits and got to see to Arcee’s mortification, she was satisfied. 

“You’re booked for Maccadam’s new Earth location.” Airachnid announced as she stepped in. “The grand opening. This is a big deal, Arcee. So don’t screw it up.” Note that easier to get along with did not mean kind by any means. The verbal abuse had never stopped. The physical abuse, however, had ceased when Arcee learned to hold her glossa. 

She tried to tell herself that maybe it was a good thing that she had finally learned to control her impulsiveness. It was all she could do to keep calm. The anger still rose up in her chest whenever Airachnid said something particularly nasty, but there was no outlet except the stupid performances. So Arcee channeled her anger into her performance and managed to become extremely popular in under a month. The rest of the year, she’d been in very high demand at various establishments that had cropped up all over Earth after the Decepticon occupation.

“Now, your spins need major improvement and your movements are still far too jerky.” Here it comes: Airachnid’s dancing lessons. The spider was extremely hard on Arcee, and moves that the audience had cheered for and reviewers had praised never seemed to cut it for Airachnid. “Landings on flips are adequate but your execution of the flip itself is poor. You’re still not tucking enough. I’ve told you repeatedly…” 

Arcee tuned out. Her moves were executed fine. Airachnid was just nitpicking. _You turned 178 degrees, not 180. Your pedes are too heavy – don’t stomp. You’re not a warrior anymore; don’t worry so much about the speed and be graceful, fraggit._

“I trust you caught all that?” Airachnid finished sarcastically, noticing the distant look in Arcee’s optics. “Am I boring you, Arcee?” The spider growled and stomped a ped on the cool metal floor to get her slave’s attention. Arcee jumped at the sound, looking back up at the other femme.

“No.” The azure femme replied, with a hint of bitterness in her tone.

“No, _what_?” Airachnid prompted.

“No… _master._ ”

“Good. The grand opening is in 2 days. Think you can handle that? It’s more than enough time.” Arcee begged to differ, but nodded her head in reluctant agreement.

“What do you have in mind?” Arcee asked. She’d prefer not to know and just skip rehearsals and the performance altogether, but that was an extreme impossibility.

“Since Maccadam is still around, and is one of the oldest mechs I know, something classic would be in order. Something with a cheerful, old-fashioned feel.” Airachnid said. Arcee sighed internally. She’d loved going to Maccadam’s as a scout. It was the one place the war couldn’t touch. Autobots and Decepticons alike adored old Maccadam. Neutrals could be neutral there. Autobots could be Autobots and Decepticons could be Decepticons. And there were no known conflicts when bots of the two factions interacted at the Old Oil House. Arcee wished she could enjoy it herself instead of being the entertainment for the event.

“Some kind of pre-war dancing style? I don’t even remember any.” Arcee responded finally.

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Airachnid snorted. “Okay. Here’s what you’ll do. Less jerky, violent movements. Maccadam’s was a place of peace. Flow like the oil they’re so famous for.”

“Got it.”

Arcee was silent as Airachnid began to put choreography together. The blue femme watched closely as the spider danced, muttering to herself while she did spins and twirls to start off, then transitioning into more advanced choreography, like flips and somersaults and back handsprings. She ended with a grand gesture, just as she stuck the landing from her last back handspring, her arms spread wide.

Airachnid looked at Arcee, raising an optical ridge expectantly. Arcee nodded and stood, beginning to mimic Airachnid’s prior motions and didn’t get very far in the routine before Airachnid cut in.

“No, no, no. That isn’t right. Start over.” The spider ordered, not even specifying what Arcee had done wrong. Arcee tried the beginning five more times, each time Airachnid stopping her at the same exact point. The blue femme’s temper was already beginning to rise.

“Be more fragging _fluid_!” Airachnid finally snarled at her slave, as if Arcee should have known. Arcee was taken aback for a moment before nodding obediently once more and assuming the starting position. She relaxed her body (with much difficulty, thanks to her frustration with her master) and started over. This time Airachnid did not stop her, so she must have succeeded in increasing the flow of her motions. She entered into the flips and acrobatics with ease, but was stopped once again.

“Tighter flips,” was the only advice Airachnid offered before barking at Arcee to start over from the beginning.

She pulled her knees in closer to her chest midair the next time around and got no complaints. Arcee completed the routine about 10 times after perfecting the movements until Airachnid was satisfied. The spider nodded and left the room, but not before saying, “Work on it.” Arcee leaned against her berth, ventilating heavily, knowing this was going to be an exhausting performance. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next day was full of rehearsal. Arcee got less recharge than she normally did because Airachnid arrived at her cell early the next morning, after Arcee had stayed awake late practicing the routine.

“Tighter flips!” Airachnid yelled as Arcee danced to the music Airachnid had since selected, which fit the choreography perfectly. It was weird… Arcee knew it usually worked the other way around: the song is chosen first, and then the dance is choreographed. Airachnid tended to work in the opposite direction. It would intriguing if Arcee wasn’t being forced to perform for the wretched techno-organic.

The spider didn’t stop her at all this time, instead yelling her repetitive criticism during the routine. The two-wheeler tucked in tighter during her next flip and landed solidly, shifting into a spin. “Faster!” Arcee pulled her arms in, using physics to gain a tighter, quicker spin.

“Flow!” Airachnid growled, and Arcee immediately relaxed her tense arms again mid-motion.

As Arcee finished the routine, the music died down and a high pitched noise sounded throughout the room. A ping from Airachnid’s commlink. Airachnid had gotten pings during rehearsal before, but they had been on silent. Something must have been really important to override the silence command. Airachnid put her index digit up, signaling that Arcee could have a break before starting the routine again. The spider stepped off to the side, leaning one shoulder on the cell wall while she answered the call. 

"This is Airachnid." Arcee heard the faint sound of Starscream's voice coming from Airachnid's commlink. She'd know that scratchy screech anywhere; the Seeker was awfully loud. There was one thing that hadn't changed at all. But despite that fact, Arcee still couldn't make out what he was saying.

Airachnid sighed in exasperation. "What do you want, Starscream?" Airachnid was silent as she listened to Starscream's response, pinkish-purple optics widening at whatever the Seeker was telling her.

"He what!?" Airachnid exclaimed. "I’ve booked an important performance tomorrow.” Starscream probably asked where because Airachnid replied with, “Maccadam’s.” The spider femme paused again while listening to Starscream. “You know very well why I can't bring-" Starscream apparently cut the spider off mid-sentence. "Are you sure? ...No, then it's absolutely no problem at all. ...What is he willing to pay me?" Airachnid grinned at Starscream's answer. "That certainly is... doable. We'll be there as soon as possible." Airachnid nodded to herself, pleased with whatever deal she had just made.

"There’s been a change of plans, Arcee. We're going to Cybertron."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Cybertron! And a friend shows up to soothe Arcee's spirits!


	4. Welcome To Cybertron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcee arrives on Cybertron, finds out why she's been summoned there, and meets an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! New chapter! Hope you all like it! It used to be two chapters but I combined them to make one big chapter. Enjoy!

Airachnid left the room immediately after her announcement, ordering her Insecticons to set a course for the Space Bridge on the dark side of the moon. Arcee felt uneasy. Why was she being called to Cybertron? She was angry that all of her rehearsal had gone to waste and slammed her fist on the wall. She’d run that routine countless times. She realized that she was becoming upset over _not_ being able to do something she loathed doing and heaved a shaky sigh, resolving that that issue was not something she needed to be concerned with at the current moment. The two-wheeler flopped down onto her berth and tried to puzzle out what the call between Airachnid and Starscream had meant.

First of all, who was _he_? Megatron was the best bet. Starscream certainly wouldn’t be carrying out orders for Soundwave or Knock Out. And what, or _who_ , else would be important enough to make Airachnid cancel a performance at Maccadam’s? But the biggest question still remained: why would __Megatron of all mechs need to hire a performer?

Another thing Airachnid had said rang through Arcee’s processor. _You know very well why I can’t bring…_ She was most definitely referring to Arcee. There was some reason Airachnid felt wary about bringing her to Cybertron. Arcee knew that the all of the children were alive, not just Jack. The spider had told her as much Was Airachnid afraid of Arcee rebelling once she saw her human allies? Arcee ruled that possibility out, since the small femme was only barely capable of taking out a lone Insecticon singlehandedly, let alone Airachnid’s swarm. There wasn’t much that Jack and Miko could do that could help Arcee in the way of fighting. Raf was more of a threat to the Decepticons with his extensive technological knowledge, but Arcee suspected that due to this fact, he was kept under heavy surveillance by Soundwave. 

Was her team alive? Is that why Airachnid didn’t want to bring her to Cybertron? Arcee couldn’t be too eager to find out; the spider would surely notice… not to mention all the Decepticons who would soon be monitoring her. Arcee paused as she felt the intensity of the Space Bridge’s vortex wash over her.

She grimaced at the thought of seeing the Decepticons again. It was awful enough having to live with Airachnid, but she’d soon be getting reacquainted with the sickeningly flirtatious Knock Out; the ominous and intimidating Soundwave; the insufferable, conniving Starscream; and Megatron, the destroyer of the last Prime and King of all Decepticons. After two years, she would finally be able to see what they had done to Cybertron, and she wasn’t at all looking forward to it.

The rush of the Space Bridge calmed after a klik or two, and Arcee knew the ship was now orbiting Cybertron. After a few more kliks, Arcee felt the ship stop, and shortly after docking, she could hear the familiar beeping of the keypad outside the cell.

“I apologize, Maccadam. I was called to Cybertron for urgent business.” Airachnid strode in, on a call with the owner of Maccadam’s to apologize for the show’s sudden cancellation, followed by two Insecticon guards, who each swiftly grabbed one of Arcee’s arms and ushered her out.

“I’m sure Arcee will be able to perform for you on another date, but Lord Megatron has insisted that I bring her to Cybertron.” Airachnid explained coolly to the bar’s proprietor. “I will be in touch with you soon.” With the call’s end, she gestured to her minions to follow and walked out the door.

The Insecticons followed Airachnid’s lead, dragging Arcee through the ship and finally out into the open air, where two Vehicons were waiting.

“I need to inform Lord Megatron of my arrival. Where is he?” Airachnid demanded. 

“Lord Megatron is not at Darkmount at this time.” One Vehicon piped up.

“Starscream, then.” Airachnid said disdainfully, obviously not wanting to deal with the Seeker.

“Also unavailable.”

“Soundwave?”

“He should be able to hear this conversation from the surveillance headquarters.” The other Vehicon gestured to a security camera above the entrance to the fortress.

“I guess that will have to do.” Airachnid crossed her arms and frowned. The Vehicons turned stiffly and marched into the fortress, assuming that the spider and her underlings would follow.

“Vehicons…” Airachnid muttered, catching up to the two troopers. It was an awkward walk to the living quarters. Airachnid was scoffing every time one of the Vehicons dared look back to make sure all were accounted for and the Insecticons, having had conflicts with troopers before, continuously clicked warily to each other, while Arcee had to remain silent.

When they came to one door, they stopped, letting Airachnid know that this is where she would be staying. They must have been hoping for her to break off from the group to alleviate some of the tension, but Airachnid only nodded, taking note of this location, and shooting a smirk at the two soldiers as if to say, _I’ll leave when I want to leave_.

The troopers continued on soon stopping at another door.

“Your slave will stay here.”

“Great. Bombshock, Shellrazor, follow these two to the barracks.” The Insecticons clicked respectfully to their master and did as they were told while Airachnid brought Arcee into her chambers.

“They’re giving you an awful lot of luxury, aren’t they?” Airachnid muttered to herself as Arcee took in her surroundings. The berth at the far side of the room was wide, and looked more comfortable than any she’d slept on before, especially her dismal little cot on Airachnid’s ship. There was a computer monitor, although Arcee was by no means allowed to touch it, evidenced by the lack of keyboard.

“It’s about time I tell you the reason you’ve been brought here, although I’m sure you’ve pieced quite a bit of it together by now.” 

Arcee turned at the sound of Airachnid’s voice.

“Megatron has specifically requested you as entertainment for a gala he will be holding in two days’ time.” The spider femme explained. _Still giving me tons of preparation time, I see_ , Arcee thought to herself.

“Never pegged Megatron as the partying type.” Arcee replied cautiously, hoping Airachnid wouldn’t judge the comment as disrespectful. And luckily, the spider let out the smallest of chuckles.

“He never usually partakes in the festivities. The Decepticons sure aren’t complaining about it though. It’s the first bit of leniency he’s shown in millennia.”

“So this gala… what’s it for?” Arcee asked.

“It’s basically a celebration of the finalization of Megatron’s new world order. Everyone who’s anyone in the Decepticons will be there. Which means that your performance needs to be absolutely flawless.” _But no pressure._ The snarky thought nearly made Arcee snort, but she managed to hold in her laughter.

“I’ll be back later to work on choreography. After your cosmetics are attended to.” Airachnid said curtly, turning and leaving. _Cosmetics? Like buffing and polishing?_ Arcee inspected herself. Sure, there were minimal chips and dings because Airachnid needed to keep her pretty for the shows, but they were hardly noticeable. _Megatron must demand perfection on all levels from his performers_. Arcee rolled her optics at that thought, laying down on the cushy berth.

She had nearly fallen into recharge when the door to her chambers slid open a few kliks later, revealing an Eradicon and six small humans, some male, some female. Arcee glanced only briefly at them and averted her gaze to her pedes, feeling guilty that her team's failure was what reduced them to this.

"It is time for your cosmetic repairs. You must be spotless by the night of the gala, as per Lord Megatron's instructions." The Eradicon informed the lounging former Autobot.

"Erm... thank you." Arcee shrugged at the drone, who nodded stiffly and left the room, presumably to stand guard at the door. 

"Arcee!" One of the humans called up to her as soon as the Eradicon was out of earshot. Arcee froze; she knew that voice. She looked down to scan the human faces, her gaze landing on a familiar face.

"June?"

Arcee stood up from her berth and crouched down to get a better look at the woman. Her hair had gone slightly grey at the edges in the two years Arcee had been away, and lines had begun to show on her face. There were dark circles under her eyes and the woman, who had been pretty slender already, had lost quite a bit of weight. But it was definitely June, and Arcee was overjoyed.

"It _is_ you! Thank the Allspark you're alright!" Arcee exclaimed. June put a finger to her lips.

"Be careful. You never know who could be listening." June said more quietly, obviously referring to Soundwave. "We can talk more while we make you more presentable."

"You know this one, June?" One of the other humans asked while Arcee struggled to find a position where the humans could easily access her frame.

"She was my son's guardian back on Earth. She’s an Autobot, and a strong one, at that." June explained to the guy who had asked, with a smile up at the femme.

"Tch, not strong enough apparently..." The man muttered under his breath. But everyone else in the room had heard, and Arcee winced at the insult. June was taken aback by the comment, but regained her composure and elbowed the man hard in the ribs.

"You shut your mouth, Kyle!” June snapped at him, “She tried her best to save us. It isn't her fault that the 'Bots were outnumbered. You think she isn't strong enough? She's subject to the same treatment that we are. She's a slave too. I know Arcee. And I know that she probably fought like the dickens to escape. But the ‘Cons are too powerful for her alone. She wouldn't be here right now if she wasn't being forced." June didn’t know it, but her pep talk did wonders for Arcee, who’d lost a lot of that spirit during her time in captivity.

Arcee reclined on the floor so the humans would have easier access to her frame, propping herself up on her elbows. June made her way to her shoulder, beginning to wash her down with a fluffy, white rag and a bucket of soapy water. The others, including Kyle, followed her lead.

The femme cracked a smile at June’s scolding, the first smile in a long, long time. Coolant tears pricked her optics, but she blinked them away.

"I see some things haven't changed." She murmured to June with the slightest hint of amusement.

"Of course not. But I'm surprised to see how much things have changed with you." June replied with a sigh. "I look at you, and I'm happy you're alive and in one piece..."

"But?" Arcee prompted.

"But I don't see any of that fire anymore. I know it’s down in there somewhere, but looking at you right now, I just can’t find it… What happened to your passion?" June asked, continuing before Arcee could even open her mouth to respond. "Such intensity used to emanate from you! And now you’re acting as if you’ve given up." 

Arcee had to think before she could give a response. She understood what June was saying but couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit offended. Of course she wasn’t going to display the same passion that she used to have; she’d been in captivity for two years! But then again, so had June. She closed her optics, focusing for a moment on the soft strokes of June and the other humans as they washed her down. 

She'd been forced to behave this way. She'd been forced to surrender just about everything in order to save June and the others and she had spent too long suppressing her own emotions and her defiant personality.

"June, the position I'm in is a dangerous one.” She started. “Airachnid owns me and she made a threat that I couldn't ignore. She knows where Jack is. She knows where everyone is and what they're doing. One step out of line could endanger you all and I can't risk it. So I learned to control my impulses and it’s been exhausting." Arcee said solemnly while June continued to scrub down her neck cables and her shoulder plating. She remained silent for a while, focusing intently on cleaning Arcee, drying as she went along.

"Do you know what's going on with everyone else?" Arcee asked hesitantly. June paused in her scrubbing and thought for a second about how to respond. 

"All I know is that all of our humans are alive." She started, and Arcee noticed the wistfulness in her tone as she spoke while moving to wash Arcee's helm and faceplates. "Jack, Miko, Rafael and Bill are –”

“Bill?” The name was unfamiliar to Arcee.

“Agent Fowler.” June clarified. “They’re all working close to Megatron and the higher-ups, but that's all I know. Jack and I send messages through other slaves. Not often, but we check up on each other now and then. Anything more is too risky." June said. Arcee felt a bit relieved, but at the same time unnerved. She wasn't comfortable with the children and Fowler being so close to Megatron. It was just another reason Airachnid's threat to her seemed so realistic.

"And the other Autobots?" Came the question Arcee had been aching to have answered since the beginning of her imprisonment. "You must have heard something." June sighed as soon as Arcee finished her question.

"First of all, you need to flip over. We need to get your back now." Arcee obliged immediately, turning over carefully and making sure not to accidentally crush any of the humans. June began to wipe down the back of her neck and shoulders.

"To answer your question...” she paused, sighing, “I haven't heard nearly enough." June finally responded. Arcee bit her lip at the revelation. "I _have_ heard rumors. Some say all of them are imprisoned, some say they were all sold into slavery. Some rumors go either way and that some are slaves and some are prisoners. I've heard prisoners are awaiting a trial or an execution or something and then I’ve heard the opposite, that they’re in until they rust. There have been too many Autobot executions to count. I haven't gotten any solid information about any of them. I'm sorry I can’t be of more help to you." June answered sadly.

"Don't be." Arcee told her, shaking her helm gently, trying not to disrupt the human woman's work.

"Alright, I think she's all clean now. Now it's time to buff and polish." Kyle called up to June and the other humans, tossing rotary buffers up to each of them.

"This shouldn't take too long." June said, firing up a buffer that a blonde woman had reached up to hand her and beginning to work quickly on Arcee's helm and the area she'd just washed. "We'll be back tomorrow to touch you up and the next day to prepare you for the performance."

"I need to warn you." Arcee muttered to June. "Airachnid isn't here now, but she'll be back, and she may be here the next few times. I can't let her know I've been in contact with you. She will know that we've been talking. That can put everyone at risk if she believes that even a hint of my old attitude has returned." Arcee explained. "She knows your face and your voice and she’s not the type of bot to forget that information. If you see her, keep your head down and keep quiet. She isn't one to bluff, you know that. Just be careful." June nodded at Arcee's advice and finished up her buffing job.

"I will. You be careful too." June patted Arcee's shoulder plating gently before hopping down and rejoining her group of humans. Arcee stood up, watching as they formed two lines of three and marched to the door. Airachnid was waiting on the other side when it opened, startling June, who probably didn’t expect to see her so soon. She tilted her head down to do as Arcee told her, hoping the femme who had once made an attempt on her life wouldn’t notice her.

“The vermin did an impressive job.” Airachnid circled Arcee, inspecting the humans’ handiwork as door was closing, probably knowing that the humans would hear. _Airachnid’s one to talk…_ Arcee thought to herself. A femme with _Insecticon_ CNA calling _humans_ vermin? Ridiculous. Apparently she didn’t do a good enough job masking her thoughts and improved mood because a small smile graced her faceplates.

“What are you so happy about?” Airachnid demanded suspiciously. Arcee’s optics widened.

“Nothing! It’s just nice… I haven’t been buffed like that in ages.” Arcee covered for herself, hoping the spider would believe her. She was technically being truthful; the buffing felt fantastic. Airachnid squinted at her suspiciously for about a klik until she decided the blue femme was being truthful, and moved on to the choreography.

“Now, I’ve come up with an idea I’m sure Megatron will be quite pleased with.” Airachnid smirked thoughtfully, a different expression from her usual condescending sneer, which Arcee found peculiar.

Airachnid began demonstrating the new moves Arcee was to learn, this time accompanied by music, which meant Airachnid must have really been making an effort to prepare better this time than she had for any other previous performance.

It was a longer routine, probably because this event was far more important than the gigs she’d done before at seedy energon pubs. Arcee noticed right off that Airachnid’s movements were slower and more seductive than anything she’d come up with before. And Arcee was going to have to move like that in front of the majority of the highest-ranking Decepticons.

Airachnid switched fast into motions that looked more like sparring, with jumping kicks and punches and flips, and Arcee felt slightly more comfortable with that part of the routine. Airachnid slowed as the music slowed, crouching down, and then beginning to move faster as the tempo picked back up again. In this part of the routine, she mixed the provocativeness of the first part with the violence of the second, alternating spins and twirls with flips and kicks. The choreographer ended with another somewhat suggestive pose, jutting her hips out and throwing her hands up over her head.

The routine made Arcee feel uneasy to say the least. She didn’t want to attract the wrong kind of attention from these surely lecherous Decepticons. But when Airachnid looked at her expectantly, asking, as she always did, if the two-wheeler thought she could handle it, Arcee nodded obediently and assumed the starting position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it! Next chapter, the gala! After all this filler and background we FINALLY get to see our favorite Decepticons.


	5. Catching Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcee's performance garners some unwanted attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really needed a break from studying so here's a short, but important chapter!

The second day had passed. It mostly consisted of rehearsal, with only a few energon breaks. Arcee had a good grasp on the routine and Airachnid had drilled her until she was satisfied with the performance.  
At the moment the slave and her master were backstage rehearsing, ensuring that Arcee had stuck to all the pointers Airachnid had given.

Arcee’s spark was beating fast. She couldn’t do this. There was no way she was going to go out and make a fool of herself in front of all those Decepticons. But it was too late. There was nothing that could get around Megatron’s orders. She prayed to Primus, begging him to bring Optimus back somehow to ambush the gala and free her for good, but there was no chance that would ever happen.  
“Focus, on dancing, Arcee. You _won’t_ embarrass me tonight. Only yourself.” Airachnid snarled at two-wheeler after noticing the dancer had been daydreaming. Arcee concentrated on dancing again and it showed through her perfectly-executed movements.

Just before the routine’s end, Arcee’s human prep squad entered to make some final touch ups before she went on. Arcee was thankful that during their stay in Darkmount Airachnid refused to spare any of the humans a second glance, thus ensuring June’s safety. Hopefully she wouldn’t stay for this cosmetic session. 

“Alright. That’s good for now. You seem ready enough.” Airachnid shrugged. “We’ll see how you do under pressure.” The spider left to take care of some other final preparations, and Arcee sighed with relief. 

Kyle and the other humans fired up the buffers and climbed onto Arcee’s chassis to start their work while Arcee helped June onto her shoulders, knowing that the woman was bound to give her a final pep talk. The femmebot welcomed it. 

"Listen to me," June whispered into Arcee's audio receptor, buffing a minor scratch not far from it, "You can do this. I know you can do this.” Her human partner’s mother began. “I managed to make contact with Jack and tell him that you’re here. He wanted me to give you a warning.” She’d heard from Jack? Arcee’s spark leaped with joy, which instantly faded with June’s next urgent words. 

“Megatron is different now.” The human woman continued. “The end of the war changed him. He isn't as focused anymore. His goal has been reached and now it seems like he's looking for something else; something to fill the void that the lack of war is leaving.” She’d never heard June this worried since Rafael had been blasted with dark energon. “Don't be too spectacular,” June continued, “try as hard as you can not to catch his eye." She hopped off of Arcee's shoulder before the femme could reply. Arcee's optics widened with June's advice. What could June possibly have meant by that? Arcee had no clue; only a terrifying hunch. 

But what could she do? Airachnid had planned the most spectacular routine of all for this night, and considering that it showcased both Arcee’s interface appeal and her fighting skill, she knew it would be impossible to avoid Megatron’s wandering optic, especially when perfection was expected from her. She wished June had told her earlier, but she couldn’t fault the woman for letting her in on this now; she’d just learned this information. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. Airachnid would rather offline herself than listen to her slave’s choreography suggestion. When she finally stopped thinking about the implications of the warning and looked down to thank June for everything and ask more about her meaning, she saw that her friend and the rest of the humans had disappeared. 

She ventilated deeply. It would the first time in two years she would see any of the Decepticons she battled on Earth, and she couldn't even fight. She was going to be their entertainment. Tailgate's killer was her supervisor. Cliff's murderer would most likely be at the right hand of the mech who'd slain Optimus. And Arcee could do nothing about it. 

Airachnid burst through the door, grabbing Arcee by the wrist, firmly enough to startle the femme, but not roughly enough to scratch the paint and ruin all of the hard work the humans had done.  
"Showtime, Arcee. Get out there. Megatron won't be kept waiting." She growled impatiently, shoving the two-wheeler onstage, behind a closed curtain. She looked back at Airachnid, who rolled her optics and motioned for her to assume the starting position. As soon as Arcee obeyed the command, the curtain rose and the music began to play. 

Arcee began to perform the choreography just as Airachnid showed her, twisting and turning in a furious frenzy. The femme moved her hips sensually, spinning and throwing her arms up over her head for part one of the routine. She was flowing, feeling the unyielding rhythm course through her as she surrendered to the beat. 

She transitioned flawlessly into the second part, beginning the acrobatics, kicks, and punches, fueling the movements with her rage. She envisioned Airachnid’s face in the air right where her next punch was supposed to land; relished in pretending to bring her foot down on heavily Knock Out’s helm; turned swiftly to bash imaginary Starscream’s helm with a satisfying backhand. And then there was the fictional Megatron, whose face she drove her knee into before she flipped and landed in a crouch. 

The music slowed down, right on cue, and Arcee slowed her movements as well, shifting to her knees from the squat she’d landed in and moving with more passion and feeling than before. She waited for the music to pick up again and took it as a chance to gaze out over the crowd. 

There was the _real Megatron_ , one of the largest mechs present, seated in a throne right in the center of the room with a perfect view of the stage. His face was unreadable, but Arcee was sure she hadn't seen such an expression on him before. As Arcee had predicted, Starscream was seated to his lord's immediate right (wide-eyed and slack-jawed, she noted, with wings perked upward as he watched her with rapt attention) right next to a smirking Knock Out. To Megatron's left were Soundwave and, to Arcee's surprise, Shockwave, both expressionless as always. 

She heard her cue from the music and immediately began swaying more intensely to the increasing tempo. The rapid, mixed choreography was beginning. Arcee went into the backflips and handsprings with ease, melding the acrobatics together seamlessly. She moved fluidly, changing her direction with the alternating notes in the tune, finally finishing in the final pose, with her backside jutting out behind her, her spinal strut arched back, her chin up and her arms bent up and behind her helm. 

She offlined her optics for the moment, taking in all of the whistles and disgusting commentary she could overhear from the repulsive audience. She ventilated slowly, managing to maintain her self-control, and forced herself to bow to the new king of Cybertron. 

Megatron drew her eye contact as she straightened her back to finish her bow. His red glare was unnerving, and penetrated her blue gaze. She forced herself to look away from the warlord's soulless stare and turned to exit the stage, retreating to the dressing room. Airachnid was there waiting for her. 

"Fantastic performance." Airachnid complimented her begrudgingly. Arcee smirked inwardly. Airachnid never complimented her after a performance; only more nitpicking commentary. She always needed to insult something about Arcee and this time, she couldn't. Arcee's performance was flawless. "Megatron seemed pleased. And I'd pay to see that look on Starscream's faceplates again." Airachnid chuckled darkly to herself. 

"So... what now?" Arcee asked nervously. 

"Well, _I'm_ going to enjoy the party while you go back to your bedchamber." The spider grabbed a glass of high-grade energon from a tray beside her and made her way out the door. She didn’t get very far; she ran right into Starscream, and her energon splattered all over the floor. 

"Starscream, you ignoramus!” The spider hissed, “You've made me spill my energon. Haven't you heard of knocking!?" 

"Well, I was just about to knock when someone barged through the door!" He sneered down at Airachnid. "Now step aside, Lord Megatron requests Arcee's presence." 

"What?" Airachnid and Arcee spluttered simultaneously. 

"Your performance has impressed him," Starscream explained, adding under his breath, "as well as the majority of us..." He eyed the blue femme sheepishly, wings ticking up and down. Arcee was taken aback by the indirect compliment. Starscream wasn’t capable of offering any praises to anyone but himself. Clearly her performance had had some kind of impact on the silver Seeker. 

"Arcee was just about to return to her quarters." Airachnid answered for her slave. "I will be available if Megatron has any inquiries about the show. I choreographed it, after all." 

"He specifically requested Arcee," Starscream retorted, pushing his way by Airachnid and seizing Arcee by the wrist, "and he will not be refused." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!!!


	6. New Hopes, New Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcee discovers what Megatron wants with her, but not before meeting with a familiar mech.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooooo, it's winter break! Which means I can write more! Huzzah! So, I had quite a scare, because my laptop crapped out without any warning and I lost basically everything on this story, because I didn't back up my data. LUCKILY, I came home and had an old backup on my external hard drive! So hooray for my story not being dead! I got a Surface Pro 4 for Christmas so I'm probably going to do a lot of my writing on there from now on, but at least I have two copies of this story. Going to keep them as up-to-date as possible on both of my computers, so hopefully this doesn't happen again.

"What does Megatron want with me?" Arcee asked Starscream, trying her hardest to keep up with his quick, long strides.

"Your performance impressed him." Starscream repeated, as if that was supposed to explain everything. "And because the factions no longer exist-"

"That's debatable." Arcee muttered, cutting Starscream off.

"-he would like to... reacquaint himself with you.” Starscream finished as if Arcee had never interrupted. "And I would strongly advise you to watch what you say around here." He added. They left the backstage area and were now pushing through the throng of Decepticons. Arcee was being grabbed and tugged left and right. She was sure that none of these bots would be too pleased if a former Autobot instigated a brawl right in the middle of the party. Her free hand clenched, desperately wanting to make impact against one of the ugly faceplates surrounding her. Instead, she resorted to asking Starscream for help.

"Uh, Starscream?" The mech looked back to see Arcee practically being violated by every overcharged mech she passed. His optics widened in surprise, then narrowed in anger and annoyance.

"Get back, you swine! Off the femme at once!" The disgusting mechs backed off a bit once they heard his orders. But one managed to pull Arcee from Starscream's grasp, and the Seeker didn't seem to notice. 

Arcee was pushed against a wall in a dark corner, a Vehicon leaning in so close that she could feel his ventilations on her faceplates. She tried to wriggle out of the mech's grip, but it was too tight, and she'd been out of practice for far too long when it came to self-defense.

"Arcee, stop struggling." The Vehicon pinning her to the wall whispered to her. To her surprise, the voice sounded somewhat familiar. The order was given gently and desperately, not lecherously in any way, but Arcee wasn’t taking any chances.

"Why should I, you filthy creature? Let me go!"

"Shhh, Arcee! It's me!" The Vehicon pleaded with her. "I'm cloaking myself. I have the phase shifter. How do you think I got you away from Starscream so easily? Please, shhhh!" Arcee froze, suddenly recognizing his voice. _Smokescreen_.

"Oh, dear Primus, it’s you!" Arcee murmured, refraining from hugging him or saying his name, lest she cause a scene. She wasn't supposed to have any connections to Vehicons. She maintained a terrified expression for anyone who might be looking on.

"I need to talk to you, but I know Megatron's probably looking for you himself. He'll be here any moment." Smokescreen said, glancing over his shoulder. "I want you to know I'm here and I'm watching out for you. I'll find you eventually and tell you all the details but it's too risky now. I'll see you soon." And in the blink of an optic, he was gone, vanished into the crowd.

Arcee clutched her chestplate, right over her rapidly beating spark. Smokescreen was alive! A mech from Team Prime was alive! With that simple interaction, Smokescreen had returned to her some of the hope that she’d lost during her time in captivity.

The feeling of euphoria in her spark crumpled when she felt the ground shake beneath her pedes, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps. They could only belong to one mech.

"Arcee." Megatron stopped in front of her, extending a servo, which she took hesitantly. His enormous servo, large enough to wrap around her entire chassis, completely engulfed her own and she found herself reaching up and standing on the tips of her pedes just to reach. She noticed that he had reattached his old arm, the one with the ion cannon, and had disposed of the arm he had stolen from a former Prime. 

The warlord guided her to his table. The crowd immediately parted to accommodate the large mech. No one dared lay a servo on Arcee this time.

"I was pulled away by a Vehicon..." She stuttered, feigning shock as she answered the question he hadn't yet asked. "I-I don't know his designation. I managed to fight him off, but he's somewhere in the crowd now."

She heard a low, rumbling hum of understanding from Megatron.

"Come, Arcee. Have a seat." Megatron sat back down in his large, extravagant chair when they reached the table and gestured for Arcee to sit. A Vehicon hurried up to place a chair just in between Starscream and Megatron, where Arcee slowly and warily sat down.

"Arcee! How lovely it is to see you again!" Knock Out exclaimed with an obvious slur in his voice, leaning over Starscream with an extended servo. Arcee took the servo and shook it gently. "You look simply wonderful! Your paint is flawless! Humans do an impressive job, don't they? I know your former human pet has quiiiite a gift for detailing!" Knock Out exclaimed. Arcee froze. Jack worked for Knock Out. The _mad doctor_ was responsible for Jack’s well-being.

"Jack works for _you_?" Arcee asked, her fuel tanks tangling in knots. Starscream whipped his helm around to snarl at the red medic, who’d apparently said too much.

"Knock Out!"

"Sure does!" Knock Out nodded enthusiastically, ignoring Starscream entirely. "He can buff the liiiittle tiny spots Breakdown couldn't! I've never looked betterer! He does a fragging fantastical job." That put Arcee at ease, but only slightly. She was mostly concerned about Knock Out performing sick and twisted experiments on her former charge. Knowing Knock Out’s love for his paint job, she understood that as long as Jack kept that deep red finish immaculate, the doctor would spare him. And she had confidence that Jack would do just that.

"Will you shut up!?" Starscream screeched, smacking the back of the overcharged medic's helm. As hard as Arcee tried to remain expressionless and calm around her former enemies, she had to admit that the two Decepticons' slapstick routine was amusing, and struggled to hold in a chuckle.

"Starscream,” Megatron said, catching the two mechs and Arcee by surprise, “escort Knock Out elsewhere. He is disturbing my guest." The way he said "my guest" made Arcee uncomfortable, especially as his bright red optics leered down at her. She bit her lower lip and watched as Starscream promptly stood and dragged the drunken Knock Out away.

"Oh, come on! We have so much in common! I was hoping we could talk about how Airachnid killed both our partners! I mean, what a coinkydink, right?" The medic yelled as he disappeared with Starscream into the crowd. Interesting revelation... Arcee thought to herself, scowling as the memory of Tailgate's demise made its way back to her processor. She had to admit that that would make for an interesting discussion, if only Airachnid wasn't in charge of her… and Knock Out wasn’t charged out of his mind.  
But getting back to the matter at hand, she was stuck with Megatron now. Only Megatron. And Soundwave and Shockwave, but they weren't mechs for conversation.

Shockwave… the last time she’d seen him he was caught in the collapsing Space Bridge. How was Shockwave alive after that? She plucked up the courage to voice the question to the intimidating warlord beside her.

"How did Shockwave... survive?" Arcee asked quietly. "I thought I... I mean, the Space Bridge exploded after I..." She trailed off, not wanting to anger the warlord with tales of her exploits as an Autobot.

"Ah, a valid question." Megatron responded. “Shockwave somehow managed to survive the explosion and repair himself and his equipment. And after Cybertron was revived, he was found in his lab by the Troopers.”

Arcee scowled inwardly. Decepticons just wouldn’t die, would they?

“He has proven to be quite useful, as always, during his time here.” The warlord continued. “He designed the oxygen generator that makes Cybertron’s atmosphere and Earth’s new atmosphere habitable for humans.” So _that’s_ how the humans were surviving without suits. Arcee had been wondering since she’d seen June, but since no one seemed to be severely harmed, she decided to keep her curiosity to herself.

There was silence between the two once more. Arcee turned away from the Decepticon leader to look over the crowd, seeing if she recognized any of the faceplates. Over near the stage where she had performed were unfamiliar Constructicons, chugging cube after cube of high grade while being cheered on by overcharged Eradicons. She noticed mechs she had only seen in holoscans: Lugnut and Blitzwing, among others she also didn’t intend to associate with. 

She absently sipped the high grade that had been set in front of her as her optics scanned the room. How long had it been since she had had the stuff? She averted her gaze to the cube of Energon in her hand, taking in its deep blue color. She’d missed luxuries like this more than she realized.

“Are you finding everything to your liking?” Megatron broke the silence, addressing her once again. Arcee struggled to find the words. Of course she didn’t. She’d find everything to her liking if her friends were here, and Optimus wasn’t dead, and if they’d actually beaten the odds and won the war. But she couldn’t let anyone know that, especially Megatron. Her life as a slave had trained her in the art of keeping secrets and holding her tongue. And besides, any rebellious thought like that would earn her a cannon blast through the spark.

“Everything is, um… lovely.” Arcee replied quietly, offering a nod and a small, false smile to her intimidating host.

“I nearly neglected to mention your performance.” The old gladiator’s deep voice rumbled. “I was impressed. The choreography… it looked as if you were fighting some unseen enemy. I have never experienced anything like it in all my years.” This was a side of Megatron that she’d never seen before. She wouldn’t have believed it if someone had told her that the former gladiator could be enthusiastic about an art form, though his reason for doing so was incredibly predictable.

“Airachnid taught me. I can’t take all the credit.” Arcee replied modestly, drumming her digits nervously on the table.

“You performed it however. And you did so _flawlessly_.” Megatron looked down at her as he growled out the compliment, his optics boring into hers as she turned to meet his gaze. She could almost see some sort of hunger in his optics. And then she realized.

 _Try as hard as you can not to catch his eye_ , June’s words echoed through her processor. Suddenly she understood the exact message June was trying to convey to her. Megatron had changed. He was once in search of battle; now, it seemed he was looking for an interface port. And by the looks of it, hers had become his target.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, and there it is. Megatron is a perv. Though there is more to his plan than just interfacing...
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed! Be sure to read and review! Let me know about things I could do better, things that you liked, things you might want to see in this story, because I love suggestions! Happy New Year, everybody!!!


	7. A Changing of Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Megatron makes a power move regarding Arcee's ownership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like I'm still alive and well! I've been in such a writing slump, let me tell you. I've had this chapter written for a while now, but I haven't really gotten around to editing it until now. I've graduated from college and I have a job and no more homework so here's hoping the writing slump will end if I fight it hard enough!

“That _wretched medic!_ ” Starscream barged through the crowd and angrily sat down in his chair, startling Arcee and interrupting whatever Megatron had been attempting. And despite the fact that it was Starscream and that she would most likely be receiving an earful in about three nanokliks, she welcomed the interruption.

“He wouldn’t move!” Starscream screeched, just as Arcee had predicted. “And on my way to his quarters, I nicked his finish – he was struggling so much, it wasn’t like I could _avoid_ it – and he lay down on the floor and fragging _bawled about it!_ I have half a processor to revoke his access to any high grade energon!” He raged, taking a swig of his own high grade. “Do you believe this, Lord Megatron?”

“Are you sure _Knock Out_ was the one throwing a tantrum?” Arcee quipped with an annoyed optic roll, earning a glare from the fuming seeker.

“Ha ha. Clever.” Starscream rolled his optics. “I’ve had it up to here with his stupidity!” He exclaimed, pointing to the tip of the red crest protruding from his forehelm. “You are not aware of how often this slag happens. Ever since we returned here, he’s been charging himself into a stupor just about every cycle.” He banged his fist on the table.

“Calm yourself, Starscream.” Megatron said through gritted denta, still clearly displeased that his second had interrupted his moment and stolen away Arcee’s attention. “Knock Out’s behavior will be dealt with, I assure you. Now if you’d just –”

“My Lord, this is too serious a matter to go unpunished! He is our medic! The drones still injure themselves on a daily basis and Knock Out is responsible for their treatment. We cannot have some overcharged degenerate loafing around the medbay!”

“Starscream.” Megatron growled, more menacingly this time. Arcee could feel the large mech’s fusion cannon growing warm beside her. His temper was definitely rising.

“And it’s not like we can use the _other_ medic… the old mech won’t cooperate!” The other medic…? Ratchet! Ratchet was alive too! Arcee could have kissed Starscream for the information he had unintentionally revealed. But she kept her emotions hidden, only showing a slight expression of surprise.

“STARSCREAM!” Megatron roared, standing from his seat and towering over his now frightened second. The entire room of Decepticons paused to look at the scene: their master, Megatron, pointing his arm cannon at Starscream, with a shaken and frightened-looking Arcee caught in between.

“Silence. Yourself.” Megatron hissed at the trembling Seeker. The second in command looked up at his master, shocked and afraid, and nodded his helm vigorously, pressing his lips together. The room burst into laughter as Megatron sat back down. Starscream’s wings perked up indignantly at the sound as he glared at his undesired audience. But this only made them laugh harder.

For once, Arcee felt pity for the mech. He may have been a sneaky, dishonest louse and murderer, but, it seemed like the only reason Megatron kept him around was to humiliate and abuse him. Arcee had never gotten a glimpse into life as a Decepticon, but in that moment, she saw a snippet of Starscream’s struggles. And, for some strange reason, she just couldn’t decide if she thought he deserved it or not.

Arcee looked back down at her high grade, swirling the remaining contents around in the cube before taking a long, final swig to finish it off.

“My apologies for that little interruption, dear Arcee.” Megatron purred to his intended conquest. 

“It’s, um, quite alright.” Arcee stammered, unsure of how to respond. 

“Starscream does not know when to hold his glossa.” Megatron tapped a huge digit on the arm of his chair.

“Don’t I know it…” Arcee muttered under her breath, reminded once more of the day Starscream had inadvertently divulged that he had killed her partner. She didn’t think Megatron had heard, but she heard a snort come from her right. Out of the corner of her optic, she saw Starscream roll his own optics and take a swig of his energon cube.

“And how have things been faring on Earth?” Megatron asked, drawing her attention back to the most awkward small talk she would ever have. He could not have picked a worse question! A wave of anger rushed through her frame. She clenched her fists and her denta and squeezed her optics shut, willing it to pass quickly. She knew she was taking too long to respond.

“I don’t think that would be the best question to ask an Aut –” Arcee corrected herself after realizing once more who she was speaking to, “a _former_ Autobot.” Arcee said through her clenched denta.

"Ooh, you’re in for it now.” Starscream murmured from her other side, low enough for only Arcee to hear. But to her surprise, the Decepticon king chuckled.

“Lord Megatron!” came a voice from behind. Airachnid pushed through the crowd with her spider legs. “How long it’s been! And you’ve never looked better.” 

“What do you want, Airachnid?” The imposing mech asked the spider disdainfully, obviously annoyed at another interruption.

“I’ve managed to reschedule Arcee’s Maccadam’s performance.” Airachnid stated. “They’ve rescheduled the grand opening just for this and we need to depart immediately.” Arcee stood up fast, more than ready to leave. In this case, Airachnid was the lesser of two evils.

“No,” was all Megatron had to say in reply. _No!?_

“I beg your pardon, my lord?” Airachnid was taken aback by Megatron’s refusal. “I can bring Arcee back for any performances you request if you enjoyed it that much. Right now, we have an important show to get to. I can’t cancel on Maccadam _twice_.”

“You can, and you will.” Megatron growled. “Arcee belongs to me now.”

“Excuse me!?” Airachnid snarled, no longer caring about being respectful to her king. Megatron produced a small card from his subspace, and extended it to Airachnid.

“This should be enough to cover it, correct?” Airachnid’s expression immediately changed at the sight of the credit card.

“Er… um… I suppose it should, Lord Megatron.” The spider femme stammered, taking the card from his massive digits and turning it over in her servo.

“Good. Now get out of my sight.” Megatron ordered coldly. “And be sure to be out of Darkmount by tomorrow morning.” The spider femme scrambled to leave, looking as if Megatron had just aimed a point-blank fusion cannon blast at her. Arcee noted that Starscream grinned after her retreating form as if Megatron hadn’t done the same thing to him only a few kliks before.

Arcee slowly sat back down, staring in shock at her half-drained cube of energon with wide optics. She was Megatron’s property now.

The party ended soon after Megatron had purchased Arcee from Airachnid. Arcee was silent the rest of the time, and only gave one-word answers whenever he tried to reinitiate small-talk. Most of the time she looked out over the crowd, familiarizing herself with the faces; she would probably need to, now that she was living here. All the while she felt Megatron’s scarlet gaze roving over her frame, causing bitterly cold chills to race up her spinal strut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there you have it, folks! A bunch of you did see it coming, but now Arcee "belongs" to Megatron (Arcee is her own woman goddamn it). And Ratchet confirmed to be alive!?!? Hopefully it doesn't take me ~8 months to update this time around.


End file.
